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Chapter 3 The Model

Author: Inkwood
"Especially when it comes to the baby-products campaign," I said, enunciating each word. "I spent three years building the model for the baby-products campaign. The logic behind its user labels is a hundred times more complicated than you think.

"A word of advice? Don't touch a single one of the core labels. Otherwise, you won't be able to handle the consequences."

Linnea's expression instantly darkened at my warning. Clearly, I had hit a very sore nerve.

"Are you telling me how to do my job? Savannah, don't forget your place. You're in no place to tell me how to do my job! That outdated model of yours should have been scrapped a long time ago!"

She immediately called Luke as soon as she snapped at me, as if to prove that she was the one in control.

Her voice instantly softened, full of wounded indignation. "Luke, Savannah still hasn't given me the password to the model backend. I need to change the parameters, but I can't get in."

Luke's call came through to my extension a moment later. "Savannah, give Linnea the backend password and cooperate with her."

"The password changes dynamically. I need to log in and transfer the access permissions," I replied calmly.

Luke came over to my desk 10 minutes later. Only then did I open the backend login screen in front of both of them.

As I entered the password, I could tell that Linnea's eyes were fixed on my keyboard. My fingers moved quickly, but she watched me flit through the keyboard with unusual concentration.

I logged out of my account once the access permissions had been transferred.

"There you go."

"That's it?" Linnea frowned. "Isn't there anything else you need to tell me?"

I looked at her and said seriously, "There is. One last warning. Don't mess with the model."

Linnea scoffed, grabbed Luke by the arm, and turned to leave. "Mind your own business."

I stayed late at the office that night.

As I passed the data department, I saw that Linnea was the only one still there.

The impatience she had shown during the day was gone. Instead, an almost feverish excitement was in its place.

I heard her muttering under her breath. "Why make it so complicated? It's all redundant code… People trying to conceive, new parents, families having a second child… What's the point of splitting the labels up so finely?

"I'm going to simplify all of this, concentrate the budget, and go straight after high-value customers. Once I finish changing the parameters, I'll push the conversion rate to 40 percent. Let's see who dares question me, then!"

I shook my head and left the office.

Some people had to fall into a pit themselves before they realized just how deep it was.

I clocked in at exactly 9 a.m on the day of the shopping event.

Compared with the days when I used to stay up late monitoring the data, my new 2,000-dollar-a-month content review job really was easy enough to feel like retirement.

A sudden commotion broke out in the lobby at exactly 10 a.m.

"What's going on? Why did the backend numbers just fall off a cliff?"

"The client is demanding answers! They want to know why impressions are up, but we haven't gotten a single conversion!"

I took a sip of coffee and casually opened the company's shared analytics dashboard.

The red line representing the multimillion-dollar baby-products brand was plunging almost vertically.

The conversion rate had plummeted to just 0.1%, compared with the usual 30%.

"Linnea! What the hell is going on?" Luke's furious roar came from his office.

A few seconds later, he stormed into the lobby, his face livid.

Linnea shuffled behind him, her eyes red rimmed. "I-I just optimized the labels."
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